The Green Knight Rises
by Kerichi
Summary: In Creevey Comics, the Green Knight aids those in need under the cloak of darkness. Scorpius Malfoy prefers tailored wizard robes and spending his nights with Rose Weasley, but like the Green Knight he makes his own rules—whether Super Wizard Harry Potter likes it or not.
1. Sunday Dinner

On Scorpius Malfoy's first visit to The Burrow, he experienced a chilly reception followed by a dunk in an ice-cold pond. The Weasley clan had thawed to him since then-no more gang interrogations, Granny Weasley stopped threatening to hex–-but he was mindful that the family truce could end at any time.

That awareness made Scorpius hesitate when Rose suggested they fly his new enchanted motorbike to Devon for Sunday dinner.

"We can't skip another one. Lily's sending owls, threatening to hunt us down." Rose sat cross-legged on the bed, draped like a goddess in Egyptian cotton. "She said we've been going at it for weeks, we have to come up for air sometime."

"I disagree."

"Me too." Rose set her teacup on the tray holding the remains of their breakfast. "But I see her point. We-"

"-are on holiday." After seven years at Hogwarts, they deserved one.

Rose sighed. "Tomorrow it'll be over. Ministry training for me and you'll be working for Malfoy Enterprises."

Scorpius cast a _Mitto _spell to send the tray to the kitchen. "There's still time to go at it before coming up for air."

Rose glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Dinner's at two, we'll need at least an hour to get ready . . . ." Her lips curved. "Plenty of time."

"Barely enough." Scorpius leaned over to kiss her smiling mouth.

.

The issue of how to get to Devon was forgotten until much later, when they were hurrying to get dressed.

"I can't wait to see you in riding gear," Rose said.

The anticipation on her face banished any concern that the Weasley family clock would report Rose in mortal peril instead of travelling. Scorpius replied, "Not the trousers. Only the jacket."

Rose slid on a pair of blue jeans. "Hugo will say we're trying to match."

Her leather jacket was all black. His had grey stripes. "There's a reason Headmaster Snape's portrait calls him a dunderhead." Scorpius watched Rose choose trainers and selected dark jeans and riding boots.

Wizard buildings didn't offer the Muggle amenity of underground parking, so Scorpius and Rose walked up the steps from the penthouse to the roof garden. He rolled the black Triumph Rocket III out of a shed charmed to resemble a privacy screen.

"Millionaires love their toys," Rose said.

"Billionaire by the time I inherit." Scorpius handed Rose a helmet that was almost as blue as her eyes, checked the fit, and fastened the chinstrap before sliding on his own silver helmet. "I have to admit this is one of my favourites." He wouldn't trade the Super Wizard comics and action figures he'd collected from childhood for the motorbike, but he'd forfeit any other "toy" he owned.

Rose mounted the motorbike behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Will this be like flying in Dad's car?"

Scorpius chuckled. She knew he thought her father's Bentley was the equivalent of flying sofa. He hit the start button, pressed another button to levitate, and then engaged the Invisibility Booster. "Hold on." He twisted the right handgrip towards his body and the motorbike shot forward.

The speed was exhilarating, but the real thrill came from the danger. Rev the engine too much and the bike would do wheelies. Accidentally pull hard on the front brake lever and the motorbike would slide sideways on the ground or in midair.

His skill controlled the machine. Kept Rose safe. The knowledge aroused a primal response his grandparents would deem unbecoming to a Slytherin.

Once they reached the orchards belonging to the Weasleys' neighbours, Scorpius pulled the lever called a clutch to begin their descent. The tires touched ground in a paddock and rolled to a stop.

Rose climbed off to open the gate and then close it behind the motorbike. Scorpius drove slowly through a field of tall grass and halted at the edge of The Burrow's back garden.

"Do you want to walk from here?" Rose asked.

The family gathered around picnic tables stared in their direction. No one smiled. Rose's father and uncles seemed ready to hex first and ask questions later.

Scorpius lifted his hands. "They think we're intruders. Take off your helmet."

He could tell the moment Rose was recognized. Wands lowered.

"Merlin," Rose said with a wavering laugh. "I was scared we'd have to cast Shield Charms."

Scorpius had cast a Shield Charm, but since it was non-verbal, and cast without a wand, he was relieved not to test it against a dozen curses. He waited for Rose to dismount and got off the bike to remove his own helmet and riding gloves.

Most of the family wandered over to greet Rose and take a closer look at his motorbike.

"What's that for?" Rose's cousin Lucy asked, pointing to the pad he'd conjured to place beneath the chrome kickstand.

"Stability, so the motorbike doesn't fall over."

Lucy smiled, revealing a gap where she'd lost a canine tooth. "I like your motorbike. It's shiny and pretty."

"Malfoys are all about appearances." Teddy Lupin stood nearby, smirking.

Scorpius looked at Lupin's spiky turquoise hair and arched an eyebrow.

Lucy burst into giggles.

Harry Potter, the original Super Wizard, strolled up to the motorbike. He was dressed in alter-ego mode, t-shirt and cargo shorts. "My godfather, Sirius Black, had a Triumph Bonneville. I take it out now and then. It has a finicky kick start."

Scorpius nodded. "This model has a charmed start button with a kick start lever backup."

"Care to give me a ride?" Potter gestured to the picnic tables. "After dinner, of course."

"Of course." What else could he say with Weasleys, Potters, and Scamanders gathered around?

He escorted Rose to the garden where they sat with her cousins Albus, Lily, Lucy, and Dominique. Scorpius listened to the ebb and flow of conversation and ate a second helping of Granny Weasley's chocolate trifle to extend dinner as long as possible.

When Harry Potter ambled over to their table, Scorpius reluctantly stood.

They walked in silence until Scorpius said, "If the Auror Office needs more diversity in their trainees, find another Slytherin. I'm not interested."

"Neither am I," Potter said. "Not since I realized you can be much more effective working inside Malfoy Enterprises."

.

* * *

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Author Note: It's been over a year since I last posted a Scorpius and Rose story and promised to write **The Green Knight Rises**. If anyone reading this has never heard of **Our Little Secret** and **Our Little Secret: Lost**, you don't _have_ to read them (I think every story should be able to stand alone), but if you get some time, reading them will make you enjoy this story even more.

For readers who know my other stories, you probably won't be surprised to hear that while I meant this to be a one shot, life and original fiction got in the way, and not until I realized that The Dark Knight Rises was about to premiere did I finally give in and do what I should have done a long time ago: write a damn chapter fic. :D


	2. The Request

Scorpius could be _useful _working for Malfoy Enterprises? "I've heard about the Stop Snitching flyers posted in Knockturn Alley. Are informant ranks so decimated you ask family members to turn on each other?"

"No." Potter seemed genuinely appalled. "Lucius isn't under investigation." He hesitated, and then added, "At this time."

Honest to a fault, just like Super Wizard. "What do you want?"

Potter glanced over his shoulder. "Ron and George are in the process of imbedding voice-activated recorders into Trackingbralls for the Auror Office."

They had reached the motorcycle. Scorpius handed Rose's blue helmet to Potter. "There's a sizing charm."

"I trust in your driving ability."

Scorpius drew on his helmet and adjusted the chinstrap. "Ability doesn't ensure safety. This is a Muggle machine, not a racing broom."

Potter put the helmet on. "Draco was always concerned about personal safety, too."

Was that before or after Potter's Sectumsempra curse? Scorpius said, "That made him the best of fathers."

"I'm sure." Potter gestured to the motorbike. "You didn't choose the windshield option?"

"Deflection charm." An acrylic shield would have ruined the aesthetic. Scorpius waved his wand and a leather backrest with chrome side brackets attached to the passenger seat. "Something for you to hold onto."

"Thanks."

Scorpius swung a leg over the motorbike and waited for his passenger to settle onto the pillion seat before he revved up the engine and let out the clutch.

The riding experience was different, to say the least, with Potter on board. The motorbike handled the same: easy to manoeuvre at any speed, and once airborne, a twist on the throttle sent the rpm rocketing. As the landscape beneath them blurred, Scorpius realised the difference was weight—not in kilograms, but expectations. Rose only wanted to enjoy the experience and his company. Potter had an agenda.

Scorpius circled around and landed the motorbike at the edge of the apple grove bordering the paddock he and Rose had touched down in earlier. "Is this enough distance?"

"Should be." Potter climbed off the motorbike and brought a Sneakoscope out of a shorts pocket. "It detects Trackingbralls as well as untrustworthy people."

"And I have a Toadstone in my pocket." The stone, a token of thanks from Lysander Scamander for finding his toad Loki, grew hot to warn of danger.

Potter's eyebrows rose. "Is it shaped like a bezoar?"

"No." Scorpius put his feet on the ground and remained seated. "I've seen how fast Trackingbralls can roll. There isn't time to waste."

"So get on with it?" Potter smiled wryly. "You'd think after all these years I'd find it easier to ask someone to put themselves at risk for the good of the wizarding world, but I still struggle."

The Auror Office wasn't run by a skeleton crew. The Head Auror overcame his "struggles" on a regular basis.

"Your relationship with Rose is another complication," Potter said.

"Is it?"

"Her parents are my dearest friends." Potter tugged his helmet off. "I can't have a serious discussion wearing this thing."

Scorpius didn't move.

"You aren't making this easier," Potter said.

"Is that what you want? Very well." Scorpius lifted his visor. "It's public knowledge I'm joining the board of Malfoy Enterprises. My grandfather isn't under investigation, so that leaves the Knights of Walpurgis." The wizard supremacist group whose name Voldemort changed to Death Eaters. The group his grandfather continued to support.

Potter nodded. "Aurors monitor the activities of prominent members, but we've never had an informant inside the organisation."

"I declined knighthood," Scorpius said.

"You'll still have access to people and information. "Lucius has made it clear that you are his heir, not Draco."

"Father has other interests."

"I know."

Typical. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater to Aurors, even if a man became a law-abiding citizen who created perfumes with his wife. "What kind of information are you looking for?"

Potter said, "The Stop Snitching flyers you mentioned. Rumour has it the Knights of Walpurgis are behind them. I want to know if their campaign is meant to cover up something they've already done . . . or something they plan to do."

The Toadstone in Scorpius' jacket pocket suddenly heated as if it was trying to burn through leather. "If I find out I'll pass the information along." He held up the Toadstone so Potter could see the greenish glow.

Potter asked, "Pass information how? Through Rose? I don't want her involved."

"Too late."

The Sneakoscope sprang to life, whistling and spinning like a dervish. Potter's expression tightened. "There's a distinct lack of privacy in this family."

"Shall we teach them a lesson?"

Potter deactivated the Sneakoscope. "What kind of lesson?"

"Trackingbralls and water don't mix." Beyond the orchard was a duck pond. Scorpius and Potter could ride over and use spells to plunge the Trackinbrall to the bottom.

"They learned that when you and Rose dunked a Trackingbrall in that pond last Easter," Potter said. "The new models are resistant to water pressure."

"There's another lesson we could teach."

Potter got back on the motorbike. "What's that?"

Scorpius dropped the Toadstone into his pocket. "Eavesdroppers never hear any good of themselves."

.

The ride through the orchard and across the paddock became a test of self-control. Potter's "advice" on dating a Weasley was so dryly amusing; without a deflection charm Scorpius would have had bugs in his teeth.

Scorpius stopped the bike a safe distance from Rose's father and uncle, who waited at the spot he'd parked at before. He removed his helmet and gloves. "They don't look happy."

"I wonder why," Potter said blandly.

Scorpius grinned before he could catch himself and then tensed when Potter blinked like an owl—-hopefully in shock that a Malfoy thought he was funny. Scorpius headed for the garden.

Rose's father stepped into his path. "It's true. Don't look at anything on Rose's body below her neck. Not when I'm around."

"Yes, sir." Scorpius continued on.

"Harry's wrong about me liking you better if you praise my inventions," George Weasley called after him. "You have to buy them, too."

"I'll remember that." He strolled over to join Rose on the stretch of lawn currently used as a bowling green. "Who's winning?"

"Team Teddy. Did you have a nice ride?"

"Mmm."

Rose linked her fingers with his. "They're having a bowls tournament. Do you want to play?"

Scorpius shook his head.

Rose said, "Neither do I. Let's go home."

.

* * *

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A/N: I didn't make my goal of updating last week, but I'm going to do my best to make Friday updates for the rest of the story. The chapters won't be long (I write original fiction too), so I have to make up for that with speed and quality. :)

The dunked in the pond references last chap and this one came from ch. 13 of Our Little Secret when Rose and Scorpius went for a swim with their clothes on to deactivate a Trackingbrall. The "don't look below her neck" was inspired by a "Daddy's rules for dating" list. Readers of OLS might remember the chat Scorpius had with Rose's male relatives and some of the "rules" that came up, like "You make her cry, I make you cry."

Special thanks to the readers who reviewed last chapter and gave me a chance to brush up my rusty ABC order skills: arrrgghimapiratenow, Calenmarwen, drcjsnider, Fay-Io, Guest 1 , Guest 2, & Guest 3 (You've gotta type your names next time so I can stop imagining you as Dr. Seuss characters, cousins of Thing 1 & Thing 2 :D), Il'Diko, judypkoi, makoshark, Mageofthebooks, Missdagane, Moontime, senbo-samba, SGed, syNemYoA, tambrathegreat, VanillaMostly, and zizzic797.


	3. Couple Talk

Scorpius' plan to wait and share what had happened over a glass of elf-made wine dissolved when they reached the penthouse terrace. As they stowed the motorbike, words spilled out of his mouth so readily he almost suspected Rose of using a compulsion charm.

She said, "We would have passed information along anyway. Why are you upset?"

"I'm not." Scorpius opened the door to the stairway and followed Rose into the lounge. He headed straight for the drinks cabinet and poured two glasses of wine.

Rose remained at his side. "You're not upset but you need a drink?"

He bit back the reply that he'd spent the afternoon with her family: any bloke in his position would need a drink. "Exactly."

"Hmmm." Rose took a sip from her glass. "Maybe I used the wrong word. You're not upset, you're concerned about something."

Scorpius swirled his wine around.

Rose said, "If it's me, I can take care of myself."

"I know." Scorpius sniffed the wine. "1996 was not a good year. I'll open another bottle."

"I'd rather you told me what's wrong."

He exhaled heavily. "Potter made a joke and . . . I think he saw my deformity."

"Your _what_?"

"My bifid zygomaticus major muscle."

Rose reached out a hand to caress his cheek. "A dimple is not a deformity."

Not to her, but his grandfather had a different opinion: dimples betrayed Hufflepuff tendencies. "Will he tell anyone?"

Rose slid her arms around his waist. "Would Commissioner Goldman reveal the Green Knight's secrets?"

Scorpius smirked at the thought of Harry Potter with the comic book character's moustache.

"Besides," Rose said, "Uncle Harry probably doubted his eyesight. Only nice boys have dimples." Her jean-clad legs rubbed against his, creating a pleasant friction. "Slytherins aren't nice."

"Damned right." He kissed her in a way that was better than nice, and in return, she used her lips and tongue with the boldness of a Gryffindor.

"You don't need wine for stress relief," Rose said.

Her husky voice tightened every muscle in his body. "What's the alternative?"

Blue eyes twinkled. "A bubble bath."

.

The long, hot soak was as relaxing as promised. Even the bubble bomb explosion when Rose threw four WWW round "bombs" into the water for extra bubbles and filled the bathroom with suds had its benefit. Scorpius got to cover Rose with bubbles and then pop them.

They decided to stay in and grill chicken kebabs for dinner. Rose shook her head over the focal point of the balcony: a stone charcoal barbeque. "There was nothing wrong with the portable one I got from Dad."

"This one has a chimney." And came with a pizza oven insert, tool set, grill baskets, skewers, and a double burger press—whatever that was.

"It's big," Rose said. "You could cook for a party."

Her tone made the statement a question. Scorpius placed their kebabs on the grill. "I'm considering having a few workmates over for dinner. Is Saturday at seven good for you?"

Rose placed the cup of honey soy marinade on the barbeque prep table. "They won't talk freely if I'm around."

"I believe they will."

"With Lucius listening?"

"He won't be invited."

Rose gave a startled laugh. "He'll have kittens."

"Snakelets."

She shook her head.

"It's true." Scorpius turned the kebabs and brushed them with marinade. "Baby snakes are called snakelets, neonates, or hatchlings."

"That wasn't what I meant."

Scorpius hadn't thought it was; he'd been stalling. "I'll tell him I have to stand on my own or people will think I'm weak like my father."

"No."

He shrugged. "It's what he wants to hear."

"You shouldn't have to say it."

But he would.

Scorpius grabbed a pair of tongs and transferred the kebabs to a clean platter. "The red peppers are charred at the edges."

"I don't expect perfection," Rose said.

He smiled a little. "I'll open a bottle of sparkling wine."

The orange sunset enticed them to eat outside. Scorpius asked about Rose's schedule, and she confessed that she hadn't been given one.

"Mum said the Ministry indoctrinates trainees for the first week. We learn the history and functions of all the offices and departments."

"Sounds fact-filled."

"I'll be taking reams of notes." Rose made a face. "And we're required to eat as a group in the Ministry canteen."

"I could have lunch delivered."

Rose seemed tempted, even as she said, "That wouldn't earn me any friends."

It would if she shared. "If it's any consolation, I'm sure Grandfather will arrange working lunches for me as well."

"At fine restaurants, not the corporate canteen." Envy was a good look on Rose. It did sexy things to her lips.

Scorpius said, "Malfoy Enterprises has a dining hall."

Rose's expression shifted from sulky to teasing. "With thousands and thousands of candles floating in midair, I suppose, and golden plates and goblets."

"It isn't a replica of the Great Hall."

Her eyes danced. "Only hundreds and hundreds of candles?"

"And plain white china." He left out that it was eighteenth century fine bone china, spell-protected against chips and breakage.

The sun had gone down by the time they finished dinner and began to clear away the dishes. None of Rose's clothes hanging in his wardrobe were business attire, so Scorpius asked if she wanted to go to Thornhill Square and pack a bag.

"I'm going to spend the night there," Rose replied.

"Why?" She hadn't slept at her parents' house in ages. She went home for clothes and the occasional family dinner or breakfast.

"Mum and Dad want to have a talk. Give career advice."

Scorpius decided to scrub the pilaf dish by hand instead of using a spell. A few grains of rice encrusted the bottom of the pan, and it was more satisfying to physically scour them off. "That's going to take all night?"

"Of course not." Silence fell, and then Rose said, "We have to get up early tomorrow."

Scorpius opened a drawer to get a tea towel. "I have an alarm."

Rose watched him dry and put away the dish. She bit her lip. "They think we're rushing things, that it's too soon to—"

"—live together?" His words to Potter came to mind. "Too late."

Rose blushed. "I stay over—"

"Every night. I gave you a key and the counter spells to disarm the security wards." His jaw clenched. "The toy Kneazle you've had since childhood is on my bed. Shall I retrieve him?"

"No, Mini Crookshanks wants to stay with you."

"You want to stay with me." Scorpius refused to attribute feelings to a stuffed animal. "Tell your parents that."

"I tried." Her eyes flashed with challenge. "You've never asked me to move in. Was I supposed to invite myself?"

He'd thought . . . assumed . . . . "I want you to move in with me." He caressed her cheek; kissed her smiling lips.

Rose sighed. "I'll talk to my parents again, and this time I'll make them listen."

"I don't doubt it," Scorpius said. "I'll just come along to help you pack."

.

* * *

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A/N: Who likes the thought of Ron and Hermione zapped with a_ Petrificus Totalus_? That would make things too easy for Rose and Scorpius, but it's fun to imagine. The "thousands and thousands of candles" and "golden plates and goblets" were taken from the first HP book, and for Dark Knight fans, yes, Commissioner Goldman is homage to Gary Oldman. Hope the thought of Daniel Radcliff with a Commissioner Gordon moustache made readers smirk too.

Thanks to readers who made me smile with their reviews last chapter. alix33, arrrgghimapiratenow, cinroc, drcjsnider, Guest (I'd still love a name to use instead of guest), Il'Diko, makoshark, Moontime, SGed, and tambrathegreat.


	4. The Parents

They Apparated to Thornhill Square and stood side by side watching the Victorian terraced house materialize between its neighbours. Scorpius' stomach clenched as though he'd performed long-distance Apparation.

Rose said, "Dad might be roaming the house in his boxers. We'd better ring the doorbell."

"Yes, let's." His words came out stilted. His body felt leaden. Scorpius cast a counter charm without effect.

"You're frowning. What's wrong?" Rose asked.

He told her.

"There's no new security ward," she said. "You're nervous."

"I'm not."

"Malfoys don't get nervous?" Her tone playfully mocked. "They don't have dimples or fall in love with a Weasley, either, I suppose."

"Never," Scorpius said. "But I do."

Rose reached for his hand, linking her fingers with his. "It's going to work out."

He nodded, but despite his resolve, the walk to the front step seemed abnormally long. Rose squared her shoulders and rang the doorbell. "I hope Mum answers."

"Me too."Her father might yank Rose inside and slam the door in Scorpius' face.

They both relaxed their grip on each other's hand when Rose's mother opened the door, although her attire of satin lounging pyjamas made Scorpius uneasy. Rose's father could be wearing black and white dotted silk boxers to match.

"Hello, Scorpius. Rose—we didn't expect you until later." _Alone _was implied.

Rose said, "I changed my mind."

Her mother's face lost colour. "He can't sleep over. Your dad . . . I can't even imagine."

Scorpius had no problem conjuring mental images: painful ones.

Rose's cheeks burned red. "That's not what I meant."

"We'd like to talk to you and Mr. Weasley," Scorpius said.

Rose asked, "Is Dad in the lounge?"

"Listening to a sports talk program on the Wireless." Colour had returned to Rose's mother's face. "If the Cannons are predicted to do poorly he'll welcome the interruption." She led the way down the corridor.

They entered the lounge, an informal room with comfortable furniture and soft rugs accenting dark oak floors. Rose's father sprawled on a sofa, eyes closed, muttering slurs against the wireless announcer while eating crisps from a bowl balanced on his chest. He wore black lounging pyjamas, and the crisp bowl teetered with every exhalation.

Rose's mother said, "If I have to use another cleaning charm to remove grease stains I'm buying linen slipcovers, Ronald."

"No you won't. They wrinkle." Rose's father opened his eyes and promptly sat up, sending crisps and bowl tumbling. "What's he doing here?"

"_Evanesco!_" his wife cried.

Rose's father yelped. "Oy, that was three packets of cheese and onion." He scowled at Scorpius.

"Displacing anger doesn't help anything," Rose's mother said. "They want to talk."

"About what?"

"Why don't we have a seat and let them tell us?"

Rose's parents sat on the sofa, leaving chairs separated by the length of a coffee table. Scorpius moved an ottoman to the side of a chair so he and Rose could maintain a united front.

"Well?" Rose's father said. "Go ahead. Talk."

"I don't want to live at home during Ministry training," Rose blurted out. "I only agreed because you convinced me it was the sensible thing to do."

"It's the only way to save money," her father said.

Rose's mother asked, "Would you rather live in a bedsit? That's all I could afford as a trainee."

Rose's father added, "She had to clean a grotty communal shower every morning to avoid foot fungus."

"She didn't have to, she chose to," Rose shot back. "Nana and Granddad have nice bathroom suites. I bet you didn't tell her to stay with them and save money."

Scorpius tried to defuse the father/daughter glaring match. "Rose has more alternatives than a bedsit."

"Yes, of course," Rose's mother said. "Roxanne shared that one of her flatmates is getting married. Rose could—"

"—I'm moving in with Scorpius."

Rose's parents stared. A flush swept up her father's throat and darkened his face. "Moving in?" He spoke each syllable as if trying to sound out a foreign language.

"Count to twenty, Ron," Rose's mother said. She took a deep breath. "I know you've been spending a lot of time together since you left school."

"Holiday," Rose's father said. "You've been on holiday." His eyes narrowed. "Holidays end."

"This isn't a summer romance, Dad. We're partners."

Rose's father turned his incredulous gaze on Scorpius. "Is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Equal partners? She's paying half the expenses?"

"Money has nothing to do with it," Rose's mother said sharply. "You earn more Galleons selling wizard wheezes than I make working for the Ministry. Am I not your equal?"

Rose's father shook his head. "You're loads smarter . . . and beautiful . . . and more forgiving . . . ."

"Oh, Ron." His wife sighed. "I know you're concerned. We both are." She told Scorpius, "How will your grandfather react?"

"Or those friends of yours, the Knights of Walpurgis?" A muscle jumped in Rose's father's cheek, but his voice remained calm.

"I'm not planning on telling anyone," Scorpius said. "It's no one else's concern."

"Not even your parents?" Rose's mother asked.

"No." They already assumed he and Rose were living together.

"I'll keep some books and clothes in my old room," Rose said. "I'll visit. Mum and I can have lunch together." Her voice wobbled. "You aren't losing me."

"Aw, Rosie." Her father stood, and then Rose and her parents were embracing.

Scorpius rose to his feet and took a step back, out of group hug range. He glanced at his watch. "It's getting late," he said, "and you three have Ministry . . . things . . . to discuss. Any packing can be done tomorrow."

Rose left the family circle to hug him. "Wait up for me."

His lips curved. "I will."

.

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A/N: It may be late afternoon/early evening, but this still counts as a Friday post. Huzzah! The posting streak continues. Now I have to do something about naming chapters. :D

For anyone interested in how weird things inspire, I was writing the part where Scorpius and Rose are following Hermione to the lounge and thinking about whether to have Ron sitting in a chair or lying on the sofa, when lines from You're Pitiful (Weird Al Yankovic's parody of James Blunt's Your Beautiful) came to mind:

_You're half-undressed, eating chips off your chest, playing Halo 2, no one's classier than you . . . _

As much as I like Ron, without Hermione the man would be pitiful. And I'd be pitiful without reviewers, so I have to thank everyone who took that one giant step for readers and reviewed: **alix33, arrrgghimapiratenow, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, cinroc, fynnsmom, lalalove-Rae, Marina Del Pilar, Missdagane, Moontime, Nocturna Mae, Rose of the West, SGed, tambrathegreat, VanillaMostly, and whathappenedtotruelove.**


	5. Job Conflict

Scorpius awoke to gentle sunlight and the sound of birds in the forest: Rose's favourite setting on his lamp alarm. He turned to kiss her good morning and found the bed empty. He cast a Sonorous charm. "Rose?"

"In the kitchen, I'm making breakfast."

He tossed the covers aside.

Rose stood at the cooker, wearing his grey dressing robe. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and then she laughed. "Is that what all traditional wizards wear under their business robes?"

"Grandfather wears business suits." Scorpius strolled over to watch her dish scrambled eggs onto plates alongside cantaloupe slices and prosciutto. "I'm not wearing robes."

"So I see." Rose lifted a pitcher of orange juice. "I'd conjure boxer shorts if you want to eat on the terrace."

Scorpius took her advice but set their plates on the breakfast bar. He sat on a stool. "I'm not wearing robes to the office."

Rose sloshed juice over the rim of a glass. "What will Lucius say?"

"Grandfather will probably offer the services of his tailor." Scorpius used a charm to clean the spill. "When I decline . . . I'm not certain how he'll react."

"Then why do it?" She handed him their drinks and sat down.

Scorpius ate a forkful of eggs. "My compliments to the chef."

"They're over-cooked."

"Not at all." He silently chanted _Resilio _and dropped a piece of egg on the worktop to bounce.

"Ha-ha. They're a little dry, not rubbery. I got distracted."

"Were you thinking about Ministry training?" Sonorous charms amplified tone as well as volume. She'd sounded tense. "Is that why you woke before the alarm?"

Rose gazed at him steadily. "Answer my question and I'll tell you."

So much for his attempts at distraction, not that they were anything more than a stalling tactic. He said, "If I wear robes Grandfather will take it for granted that I'll fall in line in other areas."

"The Knights of Walpurgis. I thought that was the plan."

"I reconsidered. Grandfather likes to say nothing worth having is gained without effort. That works to our advantage. Grandfather's efforts to—"

"—turn you to the Dark side—"

"—will open doors and access to information faster than a dinner invitation." Weasleys weren't the only ones who could manoeuvre around interruptions to finish a sentence.

Rose said, "Then the barbecue is off?"

"No, and I believe it's my turn for an answer."

"Mmm." She became absorbed in slicing her cantaloupe.

Since his earlier attempt at humour had fallen flat, Scorpius didn't ask if the sound was an agreement or her version of a meditative Om. He ate his breakfast and waited.

Eventually, Rose said, "I applied to train with two departments—Magical Law and Magical Beings. I thought I could use the law to help magical beings, like Mum." She toyed with her scrambled eggs, dividing them into piles with her fork. "Becoming a legal advocate is still a workable option."

But not one that filled her with enthusiasm. "What's the alternative?"

"Magical Beings social care advocacy." She skewered a piece of cantaloupe on a fork tine. "It doesn't pay as much."

"Does that matter?"

She made a face. "Some people—"

"—are idiots."

His assertion earned a wry smile. "The salary isn't enough to pay half the mortgage on this flat."

"There is no mortgage." Scorpius raised an eyebrow. "Your mother said money has nothing to do with being equal partners. Didn't you believe her?"

"Yes."

He finally understood: Rose needed to hear it from him. He said, "We're equal in all ways that matter, and I want that to be true in job satisfaction as well. Do what makes you happy."

She leaned over and kissed him. Rose, when it suited her, had a delightful way of taking things literally.

.

An hour and a half later, Scorpius approached the Malfoy Enterprises Building located off St. James' street. The employee entrance was at the rear of the building, but Scorpius strode through the front door.

Wizard paintings and sculpture gave the marble-tiled reception area the appearance of private museum. Behind a curved desk, a security troll protected access to the floos on the back wall. His grey skin and comparatively short stature identified the troll as a rock troll, the most intelligent of the species.

"You're new," Scorpius said. "I'm Scorpius Malfoy."

"Appointment?" asked the troll in a rumbling voice.

"I'm the new Head of Operations." Scorpius walked closer to read the nametag on the troll's grey vest. "Sendak." He extended a hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Sendak's massive fingers briefly engulfed Scorpius' hand. "Need robes."

"I'll be wearing suits to the office." When Sendak didn't respond, Scorpius said, "If dress code enforcement was part of your job description it ends today." He watched Sendak's eyes for any flicker of movement that would betray intent to lunge and seize hold. Rock trolls moved faster than they spoke, but if necessary, Scorpius could levitate out of reach. After that, he'd have to get creative with jinxes and hexes. Trolls shrugged off most spells.

Sendak slowly nodded. "Not job."

"That's right." Smart troll. He might deserve a pay rise. Scorpius bid Sendak good morning and headed for the central floo.

The stares that greeted him on the executive floor reminded Scorpius of the first time he'd walked Rose to class. He pretended not to notice—the same as he'd done at Hogwarts—and strolled as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Mrs. Tacit, Grandfather's personal assistant, waved him into the corner office with the trace of a smile on her usually stoic face.

Grandfather Lucius saw him and frowned.

Scorpius said, "I met the new security troll."

"Sendak. He's the best there is."

And of course his grandfather had to have the best. "What happened to Gorignak?"

"Night shift." Grandfather's tone dismissed the subject. He waited for Scorpius to sit in one of the chairs facing the desk and said, "If purchasing the flat left you low on Galleons, I'll instruct my tailor to put your robes on my account."

Scorpius brushed a speck of lint off his suit jacket. His grandfather knew he wasn't short of funds. "I wasn't aware Malfoy Enterprises had a dress code."

"The traditions of this company _inspire _employees to dress in a suitable manner."

Scorpius wasn't inspired or intimidated. He said, "I'm saving my robes for Formal Fridays."

"Never heard of such a thing."

That was because Scorpius had just invented it. "It's the opposite of Muggle Casual Fridays, dressing up instead of down."

Grandfather leaned back in his chair, considering. "How often do you intend to observe these Formal Fridays?"

Scorpius made a quick decision. "Every week."

"See that you don't forget." Grandfather made a show of checking his watch. "Don't you have a meeting to attend?"

The first of many. Personnel, property, legal affairs, strategy and marketing were all sub-departments of Operations. Scorpius stood. "Are you available for lunch?"

"Of course. I'm taking you to my club."

The Knights of Walpurgis.

Scorpius said, "I suppose I'll need wizard robes."

Grandfather smiled. "I'll send an owl to my tailor."

.

* * *

A/N: _She was caught in a mudslide, eaten by a lion . . ._ no, wait, that's a line from Train's 50 ways to say Goodbye (which is so catchy because it borrows from the Phantom of the Opera theme). I don't want to be all "There was a hurricane; I adopted a rescue puppy; I got sick" (For some reason I'm imagining Ricky Gervais saying that in his high pitched, mocking voice). Life doesn't always go as planned. Thanks to everyone who's looked forward to another chapter.

For readers who remember Sendak from my Remus and Tonks stories, aren't you glad he isn't working for Evan Rosier anymore? For Galaxy Quest fans, yes, I got the other security troll's name from the alien pig beast/rock monster. At least this one didn't turn inside out and explode. :D

The readers whose reviews last chapter gave me a never give up, never surrender attitude to writing were . . . **alix33, arrrgghimapiratenow, Calenmarwen, Carnivalgirl, cinroc, drcjsnider, fynnsmom, Il'Diko lalalove-Rae, Mageofthebooks, Marina Del Pilar, Missdagane, MollyCoddles, Moontime, Nocturna Mae, Rose of the West, SGed, sofia666, tambrathegreat, VandyFNP, and VanillaMostly.**


	6. Unexpected Meetings

Scorpius headed to his own corner office, which was far less grand in size and view. Frank Pawsey, the new Head of Personnel, stood beside Mrs. Jamieson's desk, chatting about the weather. She looked up and said, "Your eight o'clock appointment has arrived, Mr. Malfoy."

The time was 7:50.

Pawsey said, "I popped round early to catch up with Adeline here. She was the finest PA I ever had."

The oily smile that accompanied the compliment raised Scorpius' suspicions. Mrs. Jamieson was an attractive woman in her fifties. Pawsey was a few years older. Had he sexually harassed her?

Mrs. Jamieson ignored the praise. "Shall I make tea, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Earl Grey for me." Pawsey said. "Milk, no sugar. I'm sure you remember."

"Yes," Mrs. Jamieson replied coolly. She asked Scorpius, "For you, sir?"

"_Qilaishan Long Wu_." Scorpius led the way into his office.

"I'd heard they'd redecorated," Pawsey said. "Bit minimalist for my taste. Scandinavian design?"

"Italian."

Pawsey sat in one of the chairs facing Scorpius' desk. "You're not wearing robes. Another attempt to break the chain?"

Scorpius used one of his grandfather's tactics. He leaned back in his chair and fixed a penetrating gaze on his target. "Meaning?"

"No one lasts as Head of Operations. It's a company joke. They call it Defence Against the Dark Arts." He didn't sound amused.

Scorpius knew why. "What did they call you?"

"Quirrell. A distant relation. You'll probably be Snape."

"Doubtful." Not that he wouldn't take the name as a compliment, regardless of the intent. His father and grandfather both taught him to revere the man, although for different reasons. "The situation has changed."

Resentment flickered in Pawsey's eyes before he schooled his expression to one of affability. "Of course. You're a Malfoy. That's how you get away with not wearing robes." He chuckled. "Must be nice to have job security."

"Yes, it is." Scorpius opened a file. "You've headed the personnel department for three weeks. How many employee grievances were filed during that time?"

"None," Pawsey said smugly.

"What about your predecessor? How many grievances did he redress?"

"I-I'm not sure."

"None," Scorpius said. "And Nigel Esterson was Head of Personnel for twenty years. Explain that to me."

Pawsey shrugged. "Expunged records."

"Security wards prevent file tampering."

A look of alarm crossed Pawsey's face. "Then there haven't been any grievances."

No one in the history of the company had ever protested a demotion or transfer? All employees felt management policies were fair? Scorpius said, "There were no grievances because there was no procedure for filing disputes, and no management training to ensure acknowledgement and review." He closed the file. "I expect you to rectify that oversight."

Pawsey's jaw went slack.

Scorpius slid the file across the polished desktop. "I've studied the procedures of other companies, and these are my recommendations. Send me your implementation plan by the end of the week."

"Impossible. I have other—"

"Delegate the job if needed, but get it done."

Pawsey was still glowering, red faced, when Mrs. Jamieson brought in the tea tray. Scorpius thanked her and noted the bright green colour of his tea before taking a sip.

"What's that Qweeshan stuff you're drinking?" Pawsey asked.

"_Qilaishan Long Wu_. Dragon's Fog." The Taiwanese Oolong was grown on rocky soil at high elevation, conditions that gave the tea a complexity that would be lost on someone who gulped down Earl Grey like water. Scorpius waited until Pawsey finished his tea and said, "Tomorrow at the Operations meeting I expect each department head to give a brief."

Pawsey smirked. "Including your father? You do know he got _transferred_ to Legal Affairs."

Inflection gave "transferred" another meaning: demoted. Scorpius kept his expression blank, denying Pawsey the reaction he so obviously wanted. "All department heads." A brush of a fingertip against the silver inkwell engaged its Protean charm.

The office door opened.

"Show Mr. Pawsey out and bring in the morning post." Scorpius lifted his teacup and, once he was alone, used a vanishing spell on the lukewarm tea.

Mrs. Jamieson returned pushing a mail trolley. She removed a teapot shaped like a sea dragon from the upper basket. "I took the liberty of preparing another infusion."

He conjured a second teacup. "Please join me."

"Thank you." She poured the tea.

Scorpius shared that employees would soon be able to file grievances—even on past offenses—and then asked about the post. Mrs. Jamieson reassured him that the amount was unusual and that half the letters were charitable requests or business invitations.

"Word travels fast," Scorpius said. "Did you know about my father's transfer?"

"No, sir." She paused. "It must have happened over the weekend."

Word about promotions and demotions usually travelled through her level of staff before that of any department head. How had Pawsey known?

Mrs. Jamieson's troubled expression revealed a similar unease. "Shall I ask security to run a sweep of the building?"

"Not yet," Scorpius said. "Get me the personnel files of the security team. Discreetly."

"Yes, sir." Mrs. Jamieson rose to her feet.

By the time she returned, he had sorted the post into three piles: soon, later, and never. He used a vanishing spell on the last pile and filed the other two in a desk drawer.

Mrs. Jamieson handed him a stack of folders. "Alun Drax's file was missing. The personnel clerk believes Mr. Pawsey keeps it in his office." Her tone was that of someone delivering bad news. "She believes every department head's file is kept in Mr. Pawsey's office."

"Knowledge is power? I'll go through these between meetings so you can return them before lunch." He glanced at the leather planner on his desk. The 11:30 appointment was the Head of Legal Affairs. He didn't think it was a coincidence.

"Will that be all, Mr. Malfoy?"

He nodded. "This afternoon, I'd like you to give your impressions of the security staff, relate any incidences—"

"There are many," Mrs. Jamieson said. "Beg pardon for the interruption." She gathered the tea things and left him studying the file of one Barnaby Goggins.

By 11:30, Scorpius had finished scanning the security team member files. He gave them to Mrs. Jamieson to return to her contact and decided to go down to Legal Affairs for his last meeting. His father was the only department head guaranteed not to resent a boss fresh out of Hogwarts. He deserved special treatment.

"Scorpius!" Draco Malfoy stepped out of a Floo as Scorpius was reaching for the box of Floo Powder.

"I was going to surprise you," Scorpius said.

"You've done that by not wearing robes." His father smiled. "Come show me your office." He took a camera out of a pocket. "Your mother wants me to take a couple of pictures of you at your desk. Our son the businessman, all grown up."

"All right." Scorpius brought his father into the office, let him take the pictures, and then asked, "When did you become the head of Legal Affairs?"

"Last night."

"Because of me."

"Not in the way that you think. I've wanted less hours and responsibility for years."

There were other departments that practically ran themselves. Departments that didn't fall under Operations. "He wasn't trying to help you."

"But he did. I get to spend more time with my son."

Scorpius liked the sound of that. "Are you free for lunch tomorrow?"

"Why wait? I haven't learned enough yet about my new position to warrant a meeting, so we may as well beat the crowd. Where do you want to go? The Gnome and Jarvey?"

"I can't. I've made other plans." Scorpius checked his watch. Still enough time to get his father out of the office. "Why don't you show me around the legal department and introduce me to your staff?"

"I wouldn't remember half their names. I only introduced myself this morning."

Scorpius heard the click of a door handle turning. He hadn't touched the inkwell.

His father gave him a knowing look. "You're having lunch with Rose."

Grandfather Lucius strolled into the room, a set of robes draped over his arm. "No," he drawled. "Scorpius is having lunch with me."

* * *

A/N: I uploaded a new picture so everyone could see how cute Courage and Cookie (the new puppy) are together. This is one of their calmer moments. When they play fight, I[m tempted to video and put it on youtube. Cookie sounds so tough and Courage sounds like a Wookie. :D

Since my intentions of regular Friday posts have pretty much gone to Hades in a handbasket, I decided what the heck, post when done, who cares about the day. I only care about readers like the ones who reviewed the last chapter . . .**alix33, arrrgghimapiratenow, cinroc, drcjsnider, fynnsmom, gracie, Il'Diko lalalove-Rae, Marina Del Pilar, Nocturna Mae, Rose of the West, SGed, and VandyFNP.**


	7. Walpurgis Club

"At his club," Scorpius said before Grandfather Lucius could find a way to make the situation worse. "I didn't think you'd want to attend."

"I don't," his father replied. "Most wizards who frequent that establishment aren't the sort I wish to associate with. I thought you felt the same."

Scorpius did and he didn't. "The club is just a place to eat."

"Yes, yes, let's not over_think _the matter," Grandfather Lucius said dryly. He held out the robes to Scorpius. "For you, dear boy."

"Your tailor works fast."

"I'm his best customer." Grandfather Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to see how they fit?"

"Perpetuate the charade that they were sewn this morning instead of the day he agreed to join the company?" Scorpius' father asked. His jaw tightened. "He's humoured you enough."

"Is that right?" Grandfather Lucius' smile had a dagger in it.

"I want to go, Dad," Scorpius said. He used the informal name to show that he wasn't being coerced. "Edgar might be there." He hadn't seen his best mate in months—since the day Gregory Goyle, Edgar's father, was sent to Azkaban for kidnapping and attempted murder.

Scorpius' father still looked concerned, but he nodded. "We'll have lunch together some other time." He strode out of the office.

"Draco storms off pouting. Some things never change," Grandfather Lucius said.

Scorpius repressed the urge to defend his father. "But some things do."

His grandfather smiled.

.

The Walpurgis Club was within easy walking distance, but Grandfather Lucius preferred to Apparate to the side alleyway to allow Scorpius to put on his robes. The motive behind the concern for privacy became apparent when a trio of photographers lounging around the front entrance sprang to attention and began taking pictures.

"Does Rose Weasley know where you're having lunch?" one of the men called out.

Scorpius ignored him and addressed the photographer he recognized: Crispin Pry, a former Beater on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. "I saw your by-line in the _Prophet _last week. Are you on staff?"

Crispin's burly shoulders slumped. "No. Still freelance."

"Then you're available to work for me," Scorpius said. "Come by my office."

"You don't want him," the third photographer said. "I got the most experience."

"No, I do," said the one who'd asked about Rose.

The argument continued while the doorman ushered Scorpius and his grandfather into the Walpurgis Club.

Grandfather Lucius chuckled. "Finessed like a true Malfoy."

The job offer had been real. Scorpius took in the silk and velvet upholstered groupings of furniture that gave the entrance hall the air of a Regency drawing room. "Is this where they hold the children's parties?"

"The ones your parents never allowed you to attend? Yes." His grandfather shrugged. "Hordes of unruly children gorging on sweets. You didn't miss much."

He'd missed the chance to make a wider circle of childhood friends than his pet Niffler Felix and Edgar. "I'm surprised you admit it."

"You're here now," his grandfather said simply. He gestured to the door held open by another green-robed employee. "Shall we?"

At the end of a torch-lit corridor, the dining hall continued the green and silver colour scheme of the entry, with dark wood panelling evoking a more masculine, almost medieval, atmosphere. Mounted on wide wood coving around the perimeter of the ceiling, the heads of house-elves seemed to await commands to provide service. Scorpius glanced away. "What's this called? The Salazar room?"

"I'll suggest it at the next meeting, right after I demand the maître d's dismissal for making us stand here instead of showing us to our table."

Two wizards, one in staff robes, the other wearing black edged with Slytherin green entered the dining hall through a side door. Scorpius said, "Looks like the maître d went to get the club manager."

"As he should have," Grandfather Lucius said. "This is a momentous occasion."

Scorpius smiled over the vanity, but the manager seemed to share his grandfather's opinion. He greeted them effusively and insisted on escorting them to their table next to the window overlooking the courtyard garden. A server hurried over.

"Everyone acts like you own the place," Scorpius said after the server rushed away to put in their order of lobster paired with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

"I'm one of the largest shareholders," his grandfather replied. "Rank has its privilege, but any member can reserve a table." He looked past Scorpius. "Including Edgar Goyle."

Scorpius turned and saw Edgar seated at a table near the service doors. He wasn't alone. Scorpius asked, "Why is Marianne Willoughby allowed in hall? You told me women were only permitted to dine on special occasions."

"Today is special—to them, at least. Didn't you see the announcement in the _Prophet_?"

"What announcement?" He'd had breakfast with Rose. Neither of them had cared about reading the paper.

Grandfather Lucius said, "They got married."

.

* * *

.

A/N: Puts hands to ear, listens for screams of "No! You can't end it there!" Hopefully, it will make readers happy to know that, thanks to a writing pledge to post two chapters by the night of the 25th (made on October 1st when said pledge seemed easy to accomplish), I will post chapter 8 tomorrow.

I hate to admit it, but writing's become so hard and takes so long, I've felt like a zombie writer, shuffling along, occasionally muttering, "Brains!" because I'm in need of a non-depressed one. I'm trying new things to help, so wish me luck.

Feedback is life blood to writers (not literally, as much as I like The Walking Dead, I don't want to take the zombie simile too far), so thanks to **acciohome,** **alix33, arrrgghimapiratenow, Calenmarwen, cinroc, ctc, drcjsnider, fynnsmom, Geneva, gracie, Il'Diko lalalove-Rae, Mageofthebooks, makoshark, Marina Del Pilar, Mislovetadance, MollyCoddles, Moontime, Nocturna Mae, Rose of the West, SGed, spencer4ever, tambrathegreat and VandyFNP **for reviewing the last chapter.


	8. Wedding Blues

Married. Edgar was _married. _Scorpius remembered a conversation that took place six months earlier after Easter Holiday.

.

_Edgar asked, "Will you stand with me at the joining ceremony?"_

_"Not if it's soon." His friend was eighteen, only really knew the girl through letters. It would be mental to rush._

_"The betrothal lasts a year," Edgar said._

_"And you're sure I'm the best man?" Scorpius had to ask. "Things have changed."_

_"Doesn't matter. You'll see."_

_._

Scorpius said, "I'm going to offer my congratulations. Will you send over a bottle of champagne?"

His grandfather pursed his lips. "Sparkling wine. Domestic."

That would suffice. Scorpius weaved his way through the maze of tables, saying hello to acquaintances. He paused to chat briefly with a Hogwarts dorm-mate, Nathaniel Nott, who glanced over at Edgar and asked in a hushed voice, "Could've blown me over when I read the announcement. Why the hasty wedding? Is Marianne pregnant?"

"I wouldn't know."

Nathaniel's long face became doleful. "People lose touch when they leave school. Shame, really. We should get the gang back together."

Scorpius could learn useful information from his former house-mates. "Owl the time and date and I'll be there."

"Yeah? Brilliant!"

A few tables away, the new Mrs. Goyle stared at Scorpius with wide blue eyes. She looked like a Dresden shepherdess with her upswept hair and sky blue dress robes. Edgar sat beside her, solemn and hulking. The antithesis of a happy bridegroom, and Scorpius knew why: his friend had feelings for another girl.

"I hear congratulations are in order." Scorpius kissed Marianne's cheek and shook his friend's hand. "Did you forget to owl my invitation?"

Edgar smiled a little. "It was a small ceremony."

"Held at Mrs. Goyle's bedside," Marianne said. "Just us and my parents. My brother Guy wasn't even there. She had to limit the number of people. Her heart, you know."

"No, I didn't." How Slytherin of Millicent Goyle to continue manipulating others from her deathbed. He asked Edgar, "Are the Healers at St. Mungo's allowing visitors? My grandparents will want to pay their respects." Scorpius didn't mention his father—the Goyles hadn't spoken to Draco Malfoy since the war.

"Mother's at home, resting as comfortable as possible," Edgar said.

Of course she was. He'd ruined his life for her. What more could a hag of a mother want? The simultaneous arrival of a server with Edgar and Marianne's lunch and the wine steward presenting a bottle of Taittinger Brut La Francaise compliments of "Les Messieurs Malfoy" gave Scorpius an excuse to give congratulate the couple a final time and return to his grandfather.

"You sent champagne."

Grandfather Lucius waved his fingertips dismissively. "It was non-vintage."

For some reason, Scorpius laughed.

"'What's so amusing?"

Nothing, really. "Today has been a lot different than I expected."

Grandfather Lucius drawled, "And it's only lunch."

.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I know it was short and this one's shorter, but aside from my adventures in depression, I think I've been suffering from too many ideas and not enough plotting. I'm going to do my best to fix that and make the next chapter harder, better, faster, stronger (If Kanye can sample Daft Punk, so can I. :D). Thanks **alix33, arrrgghimapiratenow, Belle Sparrow, drcjsnider, Guest, Il'Diko, lalalove-Rae, Marina Del Pilar, Rose of the West, SGed, . , tambrathegreat, and TheDragon'sSorceress.**

PS. For any readers who like zombies, I've decided to write a Walking Dead one shot. Tis the Halloween season . . . and I've been feeling a weird affinity to zombies lately.


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